Miracle in my pocket
by LibertySun
Summary: Two years after beating cancer, Brian's health gets another devastating diagnosis.Everyone is preparing themselves for the worst. Everyone that is except Gus. Armed with hope & love, Sonny Boy goes in search of a miracle…
1. Waking Nightmare

If you had asked him yesterday who he idolized, Brian Kinney would have readily said James Dean. A man that lived hard and died fast and _young_. Quite literally went out in a blaze of glory. _'The poor bastard.'_

Ask him that question today however, and he would answer that he idolized no one. That he believed in nothing.

He recalled the fear and dread with which he had approached his thirtieth birthday. He had known unequivocally that _that _was the end of his life. He in all actuality knew not a goddamn thing. Now, at nearly thirty seven, he felt very much like a newborn by way of life experience and fulfillment.

'_No. He wasn't ready.' _He had just begun to get this whole 'life' shit down, when the burden of death had been so rudely forced upon him. _'Fucking figures.'_

Through weakened eyes and disconcerting thoughts, he watched the snow dance down from the sky. A delicious memory assaulted his mind and he embraced the attack. With tremendous ease he could envision the scene.

The glitter of Babylon raining down , but ironically unable to wash his sunshine away. His swaying form and porcelain skin seemingly radiated with every fluid motion. What he wouldn't give for one more dance with him. His body ached with longing as it remembered the effortless way they had always molded together.

Brian Kinney would easily argue that Justin Taylor was designed specifically for the purpose of interlocking with him. The missing piece, two halves of a whole soul and all of that lesbionic nonsense.

Nonsense that had become _sensible_ the moment he'd let himself love _him._

An intense pain surged through him. This one having nothing to do with the bacterial Pneumonia drowning his lungs or the sepsis currently poisoning his blood stream. Both of these fuckers were viciously fighting against him.

Today marked day fourteen he had been trapped within a vast room of the unpredictable. For the first few days he had tried desperately to rejuvenate the campaign of Brian Kinney's mortality. He twisted, shaped, prettily lied. _'Hell that's what he did right?' _Too quickly however, he had found that no amount of exterior overhauled excuses could cover the hideous truth.

The Doctor's hand ostensibly itched to sign his death certificate. Eight months previously he had been presented with news he hadn't cared to believe.

He had been diagnosed with lymphoma_. 'Fucking blood cancer. He knows right? Some shit.' _Two years ago he'd faced testicular cancer in the ring and knocked it's ass out. Now _this. _

For a sliver of a moment he had cursed Ol' Jack. The irony of the fluid swimming in his lungs was not lost on him. He was literally drowning in his diseased tainted gene pool.

Years ago when he'd first begun radiation he had (like with most things) excelled at it. The sickness had dissipated, life had continued, the world spun on.

This time however had been slightly different. For months the radiation had been unsuccessful. He'd feared too soon the world would come to a complete stop. For now it was still in motion, albeit _slow. _

Two weeks ago he had been granted the gift of more tomorrows. The treatment had worked, destroying the tumor.

One week ago he had been in the recovery wing as his weakened (but still gorgeous) body graciously accepted the loss of the life devouring intruder.

Forty eight hours ago he had been moved to the Intensive care unit and placed in a sterile room as his non existent T-cells murdered his immune system and he had contracted pneumonia.

Nearly fifteen minutes ago he had gone into septic shock. With a fifty percent survival rate, and only a vast array of experimental drugs to prevent further organ damage. _'Lucky him.' _

He had just asked the Doctor to inform Justin and the Novotnys about this newly formed obstacle. He was fairly certain he hadn't the strength to surpass it. The reactions of his family pressed profoundly on his heart.

In less than twenty minutes, everything had turned to heavy stone and was too quickly sinking to the bottom of his freshly hollowed soul.

The crystallized frost gracing the window pane was downright hypnotic. A heavy weight found his eyelids. He was exhausted. He was also too afraid to close his eyes.

Was this drab room destined to be it? Would broken furniture, an ugly nurse and this uninspired view from room 214 be the last things he'd ever see? _'No way in hell.'_

Sunshine had Sonny boy this morning, and he was expecting them soon. The two most beautiful smiles in the world. '**That**_ goddamn it, was going to be the last vision that hazel took with him. Wherever-the-fuck he was destined to go.' _

He'd use every ounce of his precipitously deteriorating strength to remain awake. To _wait_.

He hated waiting. He hated the loss of control. He hated not knowing when the end would coincide with the beginning. Justin and Gus, that was where Brian Kinney's life had truly begun on that fateful night nearly seven years ago.

So much had changed since then, lessons learned and all of that. The two boys had radically changed everything Brian Kinney had thought he knew about anything. Mostly about himself.

He'd finally told Justin Taylor those three (not so fucking little) words, lighting up his pretty blond life. Admittedly, that year and ever since, the whispered declaration illuminated Brian as well.

A fact for which he was grateful for now, as he lingered just above eternal darkness. He desperately needed that light right now. _'Brian Kinney does desperate. Brian Kinney does love.'_

He shivered, a chill to rival the winter snow found it's way to Brian's bones. He needed the warmth of his Sunshine. The brunet had learned long ago that there was nothing hotter than the heat of Justin's smile. Except perhaps Justin's ass.

He sighed heavily, swallowed and resisted the necessary release of a scream. The pain was just too fucking real. Every rapid breath sliced through his raw lungs with delicate torment.

'_Christ.' _He cursed his body for it's weakness. _'Didn't it know who he was? Brian-fucking-Kinney, strong son of a bitch.'_

He allowed himself a smile (no one was looking) as he thought about Gus. At least his Sonny boy still thought that Brian was strong. Stronger in fact than any of Mikey's superheroes. Gus looked up to his Daddy, though, not nearly as much as Brian admired the kid.

'_OK. Ask him again who he idolized, he'd answer Gus Peterson and he believed in Justin Taylor.'_

He winced as he inhaled deeply. The air fought against the sudden intake and transformed itself into sporadically painful coughing. Each spasm seemingly seared his organs to the core. Crimson iron glazed his tongue, the taste of 'giving up.'

'_He wouldn't cry. Even though he'd never wanted to do anything more. Not even one delicious Mr. Taylor.'_

He didn't want to lie here and continually think about reality. _'No.' _He wanted to dream. He wanted to hope. He wanted to wish. He wanted to kiss, suck, fuck, he wanted to _love. _To_ live.'_

For the time being, he'd been forced to remain in the constricting confines of this ever enclosing room; forever determined to stay conscious (a task that was proving much too difficult).

He focused his eyes on the multitude of wires and tubes and pondered the way in which they both connected him_ to_, and kept him prisoner _from_…life. His claustrophobia was in full effect. The pure oxygen pouring into his airways was doing nothing to reduce the suffocation of his soul.

An aggressive break in his breath induced _yet another _bought of uncontrollable, unbearable coughing.

"Oh Honey!" Deb's exclaim had startled Brian but her soft tone was comforting. He was thankful for the intrusion to his inner wallowing.

He fervently fought against the invisible rope of mortality mercilessly strangling him. He won, _this round. _As he struggled to sit up, four eager hands found his fatigued form. He wanted to protest, wanted to shout _'Brian Kinney doesn't need any help!' _but he knew that was bullshit.

"Christ." was all he'd managed to choke aloud. He had been uncertain as to what exactly he was cursing. _'Their coddling him? His weakness? The incessant itching of this tacky gown? The tackiness alone? This coughing? The ugly nurse? The snow? This goddamn situation as a whole?'_

"Christ." he said again, to all of the above.

"Have you eaten?" Deb asked (more out of habit than actual expectation) emptying the bag she'd brought with her.

Brian didn't need to look to know it's contents. Chicken soup. Fourteen days. Fourteen bowls of chicken soup. He'd eaten a grand total of three.

"I know, I know," she countered the look of protest Brian was wearing "but Honey you should try to put something on your stomach." she finished.

The brunet had half expected her to say 'tummy' with the childlike manner with which she was speaking. He wanted to feel annoyed. He didn't. He _couldn't. _

"Yes Mother." he struggled to rasp out playfully. He felt a lot of things at the moment. _Playful _was not one of them.

For a brief moment he wished he could go back to a time where he hadn't invested so much into feelings. Then, with the realization that that time was the day _before Justin_, he embraced his emotions. Every. Fucking. One.

Glistening wetness flooded Deb's eyes before she could halt it. She knew Brian did not want anyone's sympathy or heaven forbid, anyone's _pity. _

'_Well, too damn bad you stubborn asshole. I'm sad you son of a bitch. I love you and I'm gonna have a fucking cry about it.' _she attempted to tell Brian telepathically.

She was fairly convinced he'd heard her, for he hadn't yet acknowledged her offending tears.

She caught Michael's eyes and noticed that his too were shimmering beneath a sea of incredulity.

They didn't want to believe the unbelievable. Yet, they couldn't avoid the unavoidable.

Every passing second was viciously consuming Brian Kinney's precious time. Every moment lived, cruelly becoming a moment closer to his final breath.

This poor kid had been through so fucking much. For the first time in too many years, Deborah Novotny was questioning the existence God.

The 'Almighty fag hater' as Joan Kinney would have anyone who would listen to believe. At the thought of 'Saint Joan' (as she always imagined a fourteen year old Brian jokingly call the woman) Debbie felt an overwhelming sense of dominance. _'Joan was _not _his mother. _She was_.' _A fact she had had no problem telling the devout hypocrite a week ago.

She'd finally gotten around to visiting her son in the hospital one week _after_ he'd been admitted. _'Mother of the goddamn year.' _Brian hadn't needed her. Hadn't _wanted _her and he'd graciously allowed Debbie to deliver the message.

Looking at Michael was almost as hard for her as looking at a broken and increasingly weakening Brian Kinney. She wasn't sure that it was not in fact possible to hear a heart breaking. She bit back a sob and excused herself to the ladies' room. In actuality she was giving her sons a moment to (she couldn't process the thought) _'Say Goodbye'._

They were all sharing the same fucking nightmare. However, deep seeded denial couldn't help itself from waiting to awaken.

She was hopelessly hopeful.

* * *

"Stop all the weeping there drama princess, your mascara will start to run." Brian instructed.

Michael sniffled and wiped his eyes. "Fuck you." he said through a laugh.

"Sorry Mikey, no can do. I's already done spoken for." he drawled in a southern accent, as an image of his blond 'speaker' flashed in his mind. _'He hoped Justin would get there soon.'_

"I keep waiting to wake up." Michael practically whispered.

'_He knew Brian wasn't wanting to hear this mushy shit, but what could he do?' _His entire insides felt as if they had melted. Melted just like his rationale and sense of reality. For all intents and purposes, all Michael Novotny was, _was_ 'mushy stuff'. Said stuff was beginning to ooze from the Brian sized gap inside him that would never again rejoin.

Hazel eyes observed his best friend attentively, he was adamantly searching for lost words that could never be found.

"What can I say Mikey?" he asked honestly. His question was met with seemingly never ending silence. He tried again. "I think I'll go with Deb instead of Joan on this one. I'm kind of excited to receive some angelic blow jobs, maybe fuck a saint or two." he tried to joke. It hadn't worked. Michael looked sadder now than before.

Michael felt as if his feet too were melting. Melting all the way into the fucking floor. He couldn't move. The world was folding down around him…crease by crease. Tattered and broken it rained to the floor…piece by piece.

'_This wasn't fair. Despite his relentless arguments to the contrary, Brian Kinney was too young. Too good. Too necessary in life. In _his_ life. In Justin's life, in Gus's.'_

"God's a son of a bitch." Michael announced. Brian smiled weakly and nodded. It hurt him to do so. He held his hand out and directed his friend to join him on the bed.

It took everything thing he had to move, but he'd done it. Michael placed himself into Brian's arms. _'So many times he'd been here. So many times he'd felt protected, loved.' _He silently cursed himself for wanting to be here now, for letting Brian console _him_. He felt selfish and cowardly. But he still felt _loved_. He'd only wished he could protect Brian now.

'This isn't the end of Brian and Mikey's Excellent Adventure you know," he whispered into the top of the latter's hair. "we're just taking a little detour, seeing separate sights."

"How profound." Michael chuckled and hated himself for it. _'How could he be smiling at a time like this?'_ He glanced up at the beautiful face of the other man and answered his own question. _'Brian always made him smile.'_

"We can only pray there'll be a mix up in paper work, and some misinformed angel with give _you_ wings." he said.

"Ah, yes, then I can fly like RAGE," Michael could feel Brian's smile and met his eyes, Brian continued "then I may actually be able to fuck in midair." he nodded his head approvingly.

Noting the unshed tears in hazel, Michael was forced to look away. His own salty broken dreams, and undiscovered adventures crashed down.

"I love you Brian." his heart and lips whispered.

He felt Brian's arms tighten, weakened but still _him_. "Me too Mikey. Me too. Always have, always will."

Both men embraced the silence and let their friendship encase the room.

* * *

As the snow fell harder, Justin's heart sank further. He was supposed to be bringing Gus to visit his _'soon to be released ,tumor free, going to be perfectly fucking fine' _father. Instead, the February cold was finding his veins as he thought that this may be the very last time either he or Gus saw him.

His mind was trying it's damnedest to process the Doctor's morning phone call. _'We're terribly sorry, there's been a drastic turn for the worse. Septic shock. Keeping him comfortable. May need to start making arrangements.' _the words swirled in a fragmented haze of astonishment.

For the last thirty minutes his mind was replaying _'How? How? How?' _repetitiously followed by _'Why? Why? Why?'._

He had been awake for what felt like an eternity. He had spent most nights at Brian's bedside. However, Lindsay and Mel had sent Gus on a plane last night. He had been so proud that he'd flown by himself like a big boy.

Justin had spent last night watching his son sleep. Wishing he himself would actually awaken from this endless nightmare. He hadn't wanted to fall asleep in his own bed, in _their_ bed without Brian. He knew he'd only have another dreamless night without the man who spawned those dreams beside him. No, he wouldn't allow himself to sleep when he knew he'd awaken alone.

Last night however, he had something he no longer possessed. He had had _Hope_. Today his soul was merely surviving. It had been ripped to shreds, leaving only ribbons of defeat.

Thinking of Gus, he knew he owed it to the kid to be strong. He would draw strength directly from the child's love. He'd have to try to find a light among the shadows.

Saltwater churned in the sea of his eyes but he hadn't granted it permission to fall. He had already cried enough to water the world. Too many tears had soaked him to the bone._ 'What happens after the tears run dry and only empty hope rains down?' _That would be the storm of the goddamn century.

'_Was it possible to live with only half of a heart?' _It was a question he had hoped he'd never have had to answer. Justin didn't want to live in a world where Brian Kinney no longer existed. Hell, they were finally together. Fully unconditionally, monogamously joined, minimal bullshit.

Though, they'd never married, Brian had promised him forever. He felt slighted._ 'Damn it, why did forever have to arrive so fucking soon? Eternities weren't as long as they'd used to be.'_

As he pulled the 'Vette into the hospital parking lot, he allowed himself a glance at the boy riding shotgun. _'How were they going to explain all of this to his six year old mind, his six year old heart?'_

He wondered selfishly how he himself would handle Brian leaving his look on Gus's face.

"Ready to go see Daddy?" he asked with his best faux plastered on sunshiny smile. It more resembled a sun_set_ that hadn't the strength to shine.

"Yep. I can't wait to give Daddy the greatest most gigantic hug he's ever got!" Gus beamed.

"He'll love that." Justin confirmed. _'Please never let him go Gus.' _he thought as he followed the child into the lobby and felt envious of his innocence.

* * *

Daddy sure did look different than he did when he last saw him on Christmas. He was skinnier, and a whole lot whiter. He recalled when he'd had the flu last year, yeah Daddy looked a lot like that.

He knew he was real sick. Mommy and Mama had told him that, but Gus was still a little perturbed by the drastic change in Brian's appearance. Especially so, since the nice nurse lady had made everyone wear silly white masks over their mouths. _'How was he supposed to talk to, smile at and kiss Daddy?'_

He scooted up as close as he could get in the bed and delivered the greatest most gigantic hug his Daddy had ever recieved, as promised.

Brian explained all of the various machines that surrounded them and Gus noted that his voice sounded a little different too. He'd didn't mind however, 'cause he was still the best Daddy in the whole wide world.

Gus didn't remember the last time he had been in a hospital. Probably the day he was born but of course he didn't remember that. His best friend Ryan had told him once that his grandma was in the hospital and she died and went to heaven. He knew his uncle Vic was in heaven too.

Gus thought it sounded like a pretty wonderful place, and it was really cool that you got wings when you got there. The thought reminded him of his plane ride and he perched himself up to look his Daddy in the eyes.

"Look!" he smiled, and pointed to the pin on his shirt "I flew on the plane all by myself and I got wings." he paused for a moment and took in Brian's smile. _'Yep. Daddy's smile at least hadn't changed at all.'_

"That's awesome Sonny boy. When did you get so grown up?"

"My last birthday." he replied matter-of-factly, then said something that spurred tears from every eye in room 214. "If you go to heaven, you'll get wings too. Only yours will be real life." he smiled with a self approving head nod.

Ryan had said when his Grandma went to heaven he still loved her but always missed her. This thought made him sad. He already missed his Daddy when he was in Canada but this would be different. He wasn't sure but he was fairly positive that once you went to heaven it might be a long while before you see your family again.

He softened his voice and barely raised his eyes to Brian's face. "Daddy?" he inquired softly, though didn't wait for a response before continuing "Am I going to have to be missing you for a long time tomorrow?"

Brian's answer refused to fall from his lips. His only child's vulnerability had frozen his mind to mouth function.

"I honestly don't know Sonny boy." he finally managed to reply with _so much truth _it physically hurt. Then again, his body was beginning to hurt worse on it's own.

Gus hugged his Daddy tighter, "Just in case it's a long while again." he explained his embrace.

Of all of the adults present, it was the six year old who had confronted the situation. Everyone had been telling themselves fractured versions of the truth. Honesty, though remained ever present, coiled within in the air. The inevitable settled into a heavy fog of unfaced reality. 'Life. No one makes it out alive.'

"Hey Gus, what do you say you and I go raid the vending machine?" Deb said removing her face mask and smiling as brightly as she could mange. It wasn't much. She noted the gracious 'thank you' protruding from both of the boys' Daddies. All of this emotion was suffocating the fuck out of her, she could only imagine the difficulties that Brian and Justin were having.

"OK!" Gus exclaimed and leaned over and giggled a little at the funny tubes in his Daddy's nose before kissing it's tip through his mask. "I'll be back." he said reassuringly then began relentlessly cataloging all of the yummy snacks he wanted to get.

* * *

After they'd finished their goodies, Nanny Deb had wanted to come here, to the Chapel. It looked to Gus like a miniature doll house version of the churches he'd seen on TV. Though he wasn't really familiar with such places, Nanny Deb had really wanted to sit here.

Gus felt uncomfortable. The hard seats didn't even have any cushions. He'd figured God's house to have been better furnished. He was also uncomfortable because it was just _too_ quiet. Gus liked noise. Liked making it. Liked hearing it.

"What do we do?" he whispered though he wasn't sure why. They were the only ones in there. Uncle Mikey was outside calling Auntie Em and Uncle Ted. He'd guessed so he could tell them that they might have to miss Daddy for a little while. _'Great. Now he was sad again.'_

He sure didn't want his Daddy to have to leave his house and move to heaven. He was at his house last night, he hadn't packed _anything _yet.

Deb smiled, "We pray honey. Talk to God."

"Oh." Gus responded although he wasn't sure how God was going to hear them all the way in the sky.

"What do we pray for?" he inquired, with heightened interest.

Deb opened her arm invitingly, and though Gus thought he was _way too_ big, he climbed into her lap. She kissed the top of his head. "A miracle Gus. Your Daddy needs a miracle."

Gus took her words as seriously as anything he'd ever heard. _'If Daddy needed a miracle, then a miracle he would have.'_

"OK. Let's go get him one. There's that real neat gift shop we passed. I bet they'd have one!" he exclaimed excitedly pulling his Grandma towards the door.

Debbie simultaneously choked back a sigh, a laugh and a cry._ 'How could she help the boy to understand?'_

"Oh no Honey," she began "I'm afraid we can't just buy a miracle. You see, it's something you need to find, or be given by an Angel. It's pretty hard though, because you can't always see them." she finished.

_'Christ. (pardon) She was sure she was just confusing the kid further.'_

Gus disagreed. In fact, he'd already had a plan.

"Uncle Vic's an Angel." he stated simply and met Deb's eyes. "Can we please go to that yard where he slept a long time before Heaven?" he asked.

This time the sigh and cry had manged to escape. She bent down and wrapped her arms tightly around her grandson. "Of course we can." she confirmed before planting a huge kiss on his cheek.

Gus's hand quickly moved to remove the excessive wetness from his face, and he set out on his quest for the best miracle anyone had ever found.


	2. Eternal Night

For an uncalculated eternity, Brian basked in the glow of his Sunshine. The feel of Justin pressed against his body was more beneficial than any drug.

They lie here now, hearts competing with which could emit the most love. It was a tie.

Though not on the floor of Babylon, or even in the clouds, the two men were unequivocally slow dancing on the inside.

Brian brought his slender finger to the blond's delicious jaw line. Slowly and delicately his fingertips attempted to memorize the beautiful face. Justin's skin felt like warm velvet beneath his cold touch. He traced his lips, his cheeks, readily capturing the features he'd take with him to the other side of forever.

Lighter than a whisper, his finger mapped out his partner's golden lashes. He smiled when the man giggled and opened Brian's favorite eyes in existence. _In anyone's dreams_.

So many times he'd seen his future in those baby blues. Now, he saw so much past that it physically pained him. As he felt himself being caught in the undertow of those blue oceans, he admittedly felt regret.

'_Why had he never married this man?'_

All of his previous reasoning seemed ridiculous now. _'Yes, if he could only do it over again…No. There would be no redo. No more chances.' _He pulled his 'husband' (in every way that truly mattered) as close as he could. He longed to meld into his partner, until they were one complete entity.

Fingers found luscious lips again, masks long forgotten. _'No way was he covering that mouth that he'd never be able to kiss enough.'_

Brian remembered their very first kiss, so many memories ago. That night and many following he'd told himself that each kiss would be the last._ 'How had he ever wanted that?' _His lips quivered now in desperate need for one final last kiss, a lingering taste.

_Everything _about him was the only thing he'd miss.

Most of his pathetic life his heart strings had been knotted in a tangled mess. Until Justin Taylor gingerly untied them, allowing him to _love._

As he desperately held onto the love of his life, Justin tried not to acknowledge the life desperately trying to let go of that love.

He let his eyes caress Brian. Though the older man's hypnotic hazel eyes held warmth; the blond couldn't deny the cold veil of absence threatening to cover them. This fucking illness had chased away his delicious bronze and withered his arrogance. Nevertheless, to Justin the man had never looked more handsome. He had never been more beautiful.

An overpowering medicinal smell tinged the air, but was unable to completely mask the unique scent of Brian Kinney. Justin closed his eyes and breathed deep. It was a scent he'd always inhaled straight into his heart.

"You love me soooooo much." he sang teasingly to his breathing dream.

"Do I?" Brian raised an eyebrow. Justin swooned.

"It's true." Justin confirmed, pulling himself to the brunet's face.

Brian was a bit startled at the intensity in Justin's eyes. He knew the blond almost always got that same look when he was finishing a masterpiece. He had always felt a burn of enjoyment when he'd watched Justin and art. Whether he was creating or admiring it, he always had an exuberance about him that enamored Brian.

He'd always assumed it was because in those moments, there was a glimpse of a seventeen year old Justin. So enthusiastic, so naïve, so hopelessly enthralled with Brian. The brunet smiled at the irony that the blond himself was still the most breathtaking work of art he'd ever seen.

Searching those blue eyes, Brian found the source of the passion within them. He knew with rampant certainty that his partner was currently wishing he could take his place.

A twinge of anger flickered within him. _'No fucking way he would ever allow that.' _The mere thought of Justin no longer living his beautiful life left the brunet with a sinking feeling that he just could not tolerate.

A memory fluttered to the surface of his racing mind._ 'Sunshine, how'd I ever get along without you? You didn't.' _Absolute truth.

Brian Kinney had never been a praying man. For only once in too many years could he even remember doing so. Prom. He hadn't wasted the prayer on himself either, it was solely and wholly for _him_.

Once again he found himself at the mercy of whomever (if anyone) was listening. Once again he found himself praying for Justin, for Mikey, for Gus.

He may have been a lot of things to a lot of people, but selfish was never one of them.

'_What I wouldn't give to trade places with him.' _Justin's eyes pleaded. _'Take my life so he can live.'_

A memory fluttered to the surface of his racing mind._ 'Sunshine, how'd I ever get along without you? You didn't.' _No such truth. _Brian_ had very much been the air that _Justin_ needed in order to live. He was more than convinced that Brian's final breath would in turn become his own.

"Kiss me." Brian said in massive effort to bring the blond back from the thoughts he was lost in.

Justin shook his head, hesitated then spoke softly, "Fuck I _want_ to. I don't want to hurt you. You know with your breathing?" he sounded desperate.

"Aw, now Sunshine," Brian smiled "this is no different. You _always _take my breath away." he batted his eyelashes in a cheesy theatrical manner. Though he _was_ painfully aware of the truth wrapped within his statement.

"Now. _Stop_ thinking, shut the fuck up and _kiss_ me." he commanded. Justin smiled and obliged.

Their lips seamlessly merged like so many times before. A connection that had always been both too intense and never enough.

Justin's succulent flavor dizzied Brian's mind. An euphoric cloud hovered, delicious drops rained down. He cupped Justin's slender neck and deepened the kiss. Blissfully intoxicated.

He could tell that his partner was holding back. _'The overprotective little twat.' _Brian himself no longer noticed the pain in his lungs. It had been superseded by a freshly born ache in his chest. An aching mouthwatering necessity to taste _'true love' _. Something he knew he could only find here. Here in Justin's kiss.

Long fingers tangled themselves in spun gold. Silken threads, Brian had often believed had sewn his life together.

Justin's moan tickled and vibrated Brian's throat. He almost coughed, but hadn't allowed his body to do so. He instead swallowed, pulling the blond's tongue into a delightful suction, eliciting another throat pleasing moan. This one breaking the brunet's heart as he wished they could do more.

The passion he'd felt equaled the sadness. They'd never make love again.

As he angled his head in his best attempt to devour the other man, his eyes briefly fluttered open. Catching sight of the fuck ton of machines attached to him, he'd almost scoffed. At the moment they were _unnecessary_. Justin Taylor was his one and only life source. His oxygen. His heartbeat. His soul.

Justin worried that Brian was overdoing it. However, he couldn't bring himself to pull away. The weight of reality was crushing down on him, descending him all the way down into what could very well have been hell.

He was hard pressed to give a more accurate title to a world without Brian.

He relished in the ability this man had to still set the butterflies in his stomach a flutter. He would never release them. A nearly invisible nausea joined the wistful wings in his gut as he tasted the iron in Brian's kiss.

He cursed the blood that tainted the most delectable taste in the world. He'd wished he could kiss it away. He was desperately trying to do exactly that.

Positioning his mouth to meet Brian's forcefully searching tongue; he wondered what he could be looking for that had not already been found. Still, he embraced the exploration. They would find whatever it was, _together_.

Detecting a weakening of his partner's breaths, Justin enlisted the help of his insides. Whilst his heart poured itself from his lips, directly into Brian so that he couldn't forget to remember to take it with him; his lungs zealously attempted to breathe forever into him.

The brunet gasped and Justin grudgingly pulled away. He met Brian's eyes. He saw a disappointment in them that made him shake his head. He leaned forward, bringing his lips a whispers' width away from exquisite hazel.

He smiled softly. Understanding the blond's wish, Brian let his eyelids fall. Justin delivered a heartbreakingly delicate kiss to each. His promise to his partner that the kiss had been enough. It had been _everything_.

Justin snuggled back against the body he knew better than his own, and let his own eyes close. He felt Brian's hands gently stroke his face, he didn't halt the hot tears rushing to escape.

"I love you." both men whispered in unison. Then spoke no more.

Embraced in the warmth of one another, they listened to their beating hearts, their sadness, their desperation, their happiness, their wishes of a different tomorrow_, _their _memories…_that floated in the air like the very stars they'd wished upon.

Silent seconds turned to muted minutes, an hour passed in harmonious quiet.

Brian had finally allowed himself to sleep, now that his dream was nestled beside him.

An unexpected sound pierced the atmosphere with sharp precision. Justin shot into a seated position and first looked at Brian, before scanning the monitors for the source of the sudden shrieking.

He had barely had time to focus before he felt himself being pushed aside by two nurses. Brian's blood pressure continually dropped in synch with the blond' s plummeting heart.

He stood, and stepped slightly from the bed; though he'd kept his hand intently intertwined with his partner's. Panic enclosed him in a cocoon of disbelief.

He was unsure as to the multitude of questions that spilt from his lips, as he was equally unaware of the answers he was given. Everything had faded. He saw and heard nothing except for _him. _Brian Kinney, whose eyes were now open in widened wonder and worry.

A newly arrived man (Justin hadn't noticed) was currently preparing a tube of some kind. _'No. he wouldn't look. He'd stay focused only on his lover.'_

"Brian," he hardly whispered through streaming tears and unyielding fear.

Brian was finding it increasingly hard to breathe. He couldn't say everything he had wanted to at that moment. Hell, he wasn't even sure what exactly that would be. He gulped heavily, wincing from the shrill stab, and blinked his eyes.

"Don't," he choked out and smiled as brightly as he could. Hazel met blue. "Later." was all he said, all he _could_ say. He was surprised how hollow and foreign his own voice had sounded. He held Justin's gaze and tried desperately to get the man to hear everything else unspoken.

"Later." Justin parroted and tried with equal earnest to deliver his own eternal declaration through the bluest blue Brian had ever seen.

Releasing his hand to allow the Doctor to insert the ventilator tube into Brian's throat, he refused to unlock their eyes.

'_Later' _an endless echo through both men's minds.

It had been enough. It had been everything.

Twenty minutes later it was the two of them once again. Though Brian was no longer conscious, and no longer breathing on his own.

The blond still knew with everything he had, that the other man was aware of his presence. Still aware of his touch.

Placing a kiss on his partner's cheek, he sighed, then stepped outside to call Michael.

* * *

The heat of his tears stung in contrast to the freezing temperatures. He blinked back the discomfort and let his eyes follow Gus who was currently pacing the entire length of the Cemetery. The child would stop every few moments and look at the ground. Michael wasn't sure but it really seemed like Gus was searching for something in particular.

He gently squeezed his Ma's shoulder and left her at Vic's grave, then approached the tiny investigator. Before he could speak, his breath caught in his throat. _'Christ. Did the boy have to look so much like his father? It was almost painful to look at him.' _

A gentle breeze blew, whispering memories he'd never forget.

"Hey buddy, are you looking for something?" he inquired.

Gus shook his head and Michael noticed an instant twinkle find the child's eyes. "Uh huh Uncle Mikey! I'm looking for a miracle." he said matter-of-factly. "I told Uncle Vic (he gestured towards the gravesite without actually turning) to give me one. You know, for Daddy." the amount of hope in his words broke Michael's heart.

"Gus," he started before he was interrupted by the kid's voice. "Oh boy! Do you think this maybe is one?" he asked reaching down and picking up a solitary white feather from the snow.

"Uncle Mikey, I think maybe it's from an Angel's wing! Do you think that could be true?" he asked as he examined the feather intently.

To Michael, it appeared to be a regular bird feather. Perhaps from one of Pittsburgh's finest pigeons. "It could be Buddy." he said as not to destroy the child's dream. _'Hell, he himself wished it were true.'_

He felt his phone ringing in his pocket, still on vibrate from the hospital. Fear found every nerve ending he possessed. With shaking hands and a heavy heart he looked at the number, Justin. The fear intensified and he worried he'd no longer possessed the ability to speak. Swallowing back his desire for avoidance, he answered the phone.

* * *

Deb smiled at her grandson (in everyway that mattered) as he came running towards her. It felt good to smile, there had been little reason to do so lately.

She had been so worried about the little man now in front of her, the man on the phone across from her and the man (whom she'd guessed by Michael's increased somberness) was on the other end of that phone.

To the three of them, Brian Kinney had been a goddamn godsend, an angel, their heaven in life. _'Soon he shall be Heaven' s Heaven too.' _she thought as echoed heartache wrapped around her like the blanket of snow beneath her feet.

She felt Gus's hand find her own, and squeeze. She met the boys' eyes warmly and returned the pressure.

Her smile and warmth quickly deteriorated the moment she met her now approaching son's eyes. Eyes full of frightened hopelessness, seemingly endless tears, and an unnerving look of emptiness.

* * *

As his Uncle and Nanny Deb hurriedly ushered him back to the car, Gus got a bad feeling. He knew grown ups never told him everything the way it was, like he was a baby, like JR. But because everyone was already so sad, and he really couldn't wait to see his Daddy again, he didn't say anything and walked faster.

He had asked Uncle Vic to send him a miracle, and he'd been looking real hard for it ever since. So far he'd found a penny (on heads), and the feather that may or may not have come from an Angel's wing. He wasn't sure if either of those were it or not but he'd placed them safely in his pocket anyway.

Glancing up, he watched the drifting clouds with more interest than ever before. He'd never really wondered too much about them before today. Today when he'd learned that his Daddy might have to be moving up there. _'To live in the clouds and dance in the stars' _he'd guessed. It sounded pretty fun, but he sure wished he could go with Daddy. As wispy white gently passed overhead, he instinctively craned his neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of those pearly white gates.

As he brought his head out of the clouds and back to reality, a new potential miracle caught his eye.

A beautiful flower, seemingly impossibly, stood tall and flowing in the gentle breeze. _'A spring flower in the snow?' _

Again, he wasn't sure if this was the miracle either, but he picked it and carefully placed it in his pocket, just in case.

With a pocketful of miracles, he climbed into the car. He couldn't wait to get them to his Daddy.

* * *

Gus had been kind of sad to find his Daddy asleep already when they'd returned; but Daddy Justin told him it was OK for him to sit in bed with him. Gus was extra still and extra quiet so as not to wake Daddy. He remembered that when he was sick he was real sleepy, so he'd figured his Daddy had needed his rest.

There were some new tubes and another machine there too. It was real scary to him at first, but after he was told it was helping his Daddy breathe better, Gus approved of their presence.

He had just finished telling Daddy Justin about his conversation with Uncle Vic and was currently showing him all of the possible miracles he'd collected.

Justin looked at his two favorite men in the world, and fought (harder than he'd believed he'd have had the strength for) not to completely shut down.

After he had hung up with Michael he had gone directly to the downstairs gift shop. After his friend explained exactly _why_ Gus had wanted to visit Vic, Justin's heart didn't know whether to burst from love or break with sadness. He'd purchased a tiny silver gift box and coordinating silver ribbon.

He'd wrapped a miracle.

"Gus," he whispered. The child had been talking in a hushed tone so they wouldn't wake Brian, little did he know that was no longer a possibility. In an effort to keep up appearances he too would only whisper. In all honesty, he was no longer certain he'd even be able to talk louder.

"Look here, I found something." he almost hated providing the child with false hope, but Hell, any hope at all was worth embracing now.

Gus's eyes widened and he leaned in close. The silver glistened as he took the box. He lifted the lid and peered inside. His body sang and his heart soared. "The miracle." he whispered.

Though most people would say that the box was empty, Gus knew better.

He knew that even though he couldn't see it, it was_ exactly_ what he had been looking for. Quickly, he removed the other items from his pocket and placed them too in the box. He figured you could never have too much magic.

_'It's something you need to find, or be given by an angel. It's pretty hard though, because you can't always see them.'_ Nanny Deb's words echoed in his mind.

_'Was Daddy Justin an Angel?'_

He wasn't given much time to ponder as one of Daddy's machines started beeping like crazy. He was suddenly real worried because Daddy Justin looked like he was about to cry. He jumped off the bed, only to find Nanny Deb's hands trying desperately to pull him from the room. Away from his Daddy.

"Wait." he protested but was ignored as he uselessly struggled to pull loose. _'He hadn't given him his miracle yet.'_

_

* * *

_

Justin had been warming the coldness he felt with the warmth of Gus's smile. He had also been listening to the rhythm of Brian's heart dancing one last thumpa thumpa when the cadence of the monitor steadily weakened, dissolving only into a single note of despair. His song had come to an end, and tears stung Justin's eyes as they knew there'd be no encore.

The beeping appeared to amplify as it echoed through his hollowed heart. It assaulted him from every direction. There was no escaping the sound of eternity's end. The sound of a soul shattering into infinite shards of desolation._  
_


	3. Dreamlike Reality

A vast abyss of darkness surrounded him in all directions. He was continually swallowed whole by the unknown as he strained to listen.

Muffled commotion was pierced by one clear voice. Gus'. "Wait!" he cried.

Until he'd heard his son's plea, Brian hadn't noticed that he couldn't see. A shiver of panic ran the length of his body. He shook his head several times before he'd realized it wasn't himself, but rather the room that was blind.

Oddly, he was standing, no longer in the bed. No longer connected to any medical equipment.

'_What the hell was going on?_'

"Am I dead?" he whispered.

"Kind of." spoke a familiar voice Brian hadn't heard in years.

As suddenly as the darkness had arrived, it departed. Brian was now standing in room number 214. With startling revelation, he noticed that he was _also_ still lying in the bed.

He couldn't explain it. He turned and asked the other thing he couldn't explain for an explanation.

"What the fucks happening Vic?" he asked worriedly "Why are you here? Where is here? What's Gus doing?" his questions shot with rapid fire.

"I'm here because the boy invited me. _Here_ is in between, and he's putting his miracle in your pocket." Vic's answers shot with rapid fire.

Both men watched as the child pushed passed everyone, climbed onto Brian's bed and slipped a small silver box into his Daddy's gown.

Brian looked back at Vic, "In between?" he asked as the statement had just registered with him.

"Seems they were all ready for you," he began, then shook his head with admiration "that is until your son requested a miracle. Quite the little business negotiator you've got." Vic smiled.

Brian's mind was reeling. He didn't know if he was dreaming, suffering side effects from the drug cocktail, or if somehow _this (_whatever this was) was really happening.

He saw Justin crying and he wanted to console him. Wanted to tell him he was there. He couldn't do a goddamn thing.

His possibly deceased heart broke further still, as he watched Justin and his Sonny boy climb on each side of him on the bed.

If he _was _dreaming he really wanted to wake up. Right. The Fuck. Now.

"What happens now?" he asked the other man.

"Now you go where you've always belonged." Vic answered rather cryptically.

Brian gulped. "Hell?" he barely whispered.

Vic's eyes shot up, he looked...angry.

"Damn you Brian! Don't say things like that. I've told you since you were fourteen years old that you're a good soul. Trust me, when it's time you're definitely headed North."

"When it's time? Is that now?"

Vic rolled his eyes. "Haven't you been listening to me kid? Gus requested a house call, Ta-da! Here I am!" Vic gestured to himself and shimmied his hips.

Brian just blinked. '_These pain killers produced some wickedly vivid dreams._'

"Those boys aren't ready to let you go, you're not ready to let them go. Your soul is not entirely yours anymore. Justin and Gus both own a piece. If you died now, you'd be killing a part of them too. Now, what kind of Angel would I be if I ignored a little boy's wish?" he smiled and seemingly vanished. Taking this dreamlike reality with him.

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and listened. Infinite blackness and deafening silence enveloped him once more.

* * *

As the Doctors cleared out of the room, Justin had hardly noticed. With _him_ gone there was nothing worthy of his attention.

Loneliness leaked through the pores of his soul and escaped through the wounds of his heart.

This wasn't right. This wasn't the ending he knew Brian, He knew they _both_ deserved. 'The Story of Us' forever etched, forever read. Calligraphy on their hearts.

Sixty seconds. The amount of time that had passed since Brian Kinney's soul had been kissed by oblivion. '_Was that all?_' Justin would have easily believed otherwise. He'd been certain this indescribable heartache had been present for a lifetime.

This seemingly endless ache that was traveling through the bottomless void of his empty existence.

Fifty-nine seconds ago Justin Taylor was still whole. One. Fucking. Second. A mere flicker of time. He was broken. Shattered. Turned to dust. Evaporated.

He cursed the world for it's continuance. How dare it still spin without _him_.

Justin wanted to make it stop. Pause everything for a goddamn second so he could_ just breathe_.

He didn't know if that would ever feel right again. '_Why should he get to breathe when Brian no longer could._'

It felt selfish somehow. It felt like a betrayal.

His sadness further increased when Gus had declared that he was _'So m__ad at his Miracle_'.

He hadn't known what to say. In truth, there was nothing_ to_ say. No words would ever lessen the pain. Neither Gus' nor his own.

He could no longer decipher between the moments _before_ and those _after_ Brian's final breath. Every memory ever tainted by this loss, even the heart warming ones. Happiness had managed to morph into despair.

Though he had relentlessly tried, he was unable to love him back to life. He'd guessed because his heart was no longer alive.

He didn't want to hear Debbie's (or anyone else's) '_He's still here in your heart._' Bullshit. No. He was gone, and he'd taken the Blond's heartbeat with him.

He had barely begun to mourn his partner; he hadn't given the death of his heart a second thought.

* * *

Gus was feeling a plethora of emotions as he lie curled beside his Daddy. He'd felt anger and sadness, confusion and worry.

'_Why didn't it work?_' He'd failed. '_Stupid broken miracles._'

His Daddy was still moving to Heaven. He'd already begun his long sleep. Gus wondered if his Daddy would dream about him.

He took Brian's hand into his own and wished he'd stir, _just a little. _Like that one time when he and Daddy Justin tickled sleeping Daddy with a feather, just to watch him wiggle. '_That sure had been funny._' Now, Gus lightly traced his fingertips up his Daddy's arm. He didn't move. This sleep was real deep.

He listened to Justin lightly sniffle and it made him sad. Gus himself hadn't cried. No. Whenever Daddy Justin was sad his Daddy would make it better. His Daddy was strong, so he would be too.

The child lovingly stretched his hand towards the Blond, and pushed his fallen hair from his wet blue eyes. (He'd seen his Daddy do this a thousand times).

When Justin met Gus' eyes, the boy smiled. "It'll be OK Sunshine." he whispered. (He'd heard his Daddy say this a thousand times).

Gus once again felt happy. He'd been helpful, Daddy Justin was smiling.

He sighed in satisfaction and placed his head to his Daddy's chest. Gus could almost hear him breathing. He could almost hear his heartbeat.

'Wait, _NOT ALMOST_. He _COULD_.'

"Listen!" his scream startled the quieted room. "Daddy's heart, Daddy's sleep breaths sure sound funny." he declared noting the shallow rasp within them.

Justin's eyes widened and he immediately brought his ear to Brian's chest.

"Brian?" Justin managed to choke in fractured syllables.

He glanced around, his partner was no longer attached to a ventilator or heart monitor. He had no clinical proof that he and his son were not just sharing a grief born delusion.

Then he'd _heard_ it. Plain as goddamn day. Clear as fucking crystal.

"Sonny Boys." the most beautiful voice whispered.

Astounding relief unfolded like petals in the spring.

"Brian!" "Daddy!" Two voices exclaimed together.

Slowly emerging from his shroud of solitude, Brian followed the sound of life. Of_ love_.

As his eyes opened once again for the first time, he smiled. Brian Kinney had been reborn. His freshly cleansed soul had reconnected with it's counterparts. This time he'd live for _them_. He embraced this foreign feeling of completeness.

His _pretty_ young nurse entered the room wearing a look of disbelief. As she approached the bed her head continually shook from side to side.

"Mr. Kinney?" she inquired softly "How do you feel?" she asked but didn't wait for a reply. "Dear God. I just don't believe it." she continued to no one in particular, "It's a miracle." she concluded, as she began to start Brian's I.V.

Brian had been acutely aware of the knowing look and breathtaking smiles exchanged between his son and his partner at the mention of the word '_Miracle._'

He had so much he'd wanted to say but his throat ached and his body was fighting sleep. He let his eyes find the window.

As he gazed at the _inspirational_ view from room number 214, he sighed. He no longer knew if it was snow or stardust falling from Heaven, though he'd certainly felt magical enough for it to have been the latter.

The Doctor approached and he once again heard the term '_Miracle._'

Instinctively, he pulled the two men at his sides as close as he physically could. It hadn't been close enough. From this moment forward, they were the only thing, they were _everything_ that mattered.

'_Every word he'd ever speak would contain a whisper of them, every thought, a glimmer._'

As his hand found the small silver box, tears found his eyes.

The miracle in his pocket was _nothing_ in comparison to the two he'd held in his arms.

THE END.


End file.
